


Take it a Little Further

by hydromeow



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Bulges and Nooks, Enthusiastic Consent, F/M, Femdom, Karkat's a nervous motherfucker and doesn't know where to put his hands, Light Dom/sub, Multiple Orgasms, Nepeta assists with that, Xeno, aaaaaaaall of them, she has all the ideas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-04 21:47:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1086051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydromeow/pseuds/hydromeow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>the underage warning miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight apply for this but it depends really on how you view them</p>
    </blockquote>





	Take it a Little Further

**Author's Note:**

> the underage warning miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight apply for this but it depends really on how you view them

Your name is Karkat Vantas and you've been steadily making out with Nepeta Leijon for the past few minutes.

It's not like that in itself is anything new or unexpected; fuck, she's your matesprit, you'd be an idiot of phenomenal proportions if you were surprised by kissing her. It just that _this_ time, you feel like you're going farther. She's suggested that she wanted to, and you're not averse to the idea – you're actually pretty turned on right now – you just aren't sure how to actually move things along.

Not that you're nervous! Fuck that, you're the goddamn leader, taking things a little farther with your girlfriend shouldn't be a problem. You took on the fucking game, this is nothing in comparison.

Except that you are. You've got no idea what to do, what to say, where to put your hands, and you're certain Nepeta knows this. God, you hope she doesn't. You hope she thinks you're as cool and suave as ever.

Your hopes are dashed when she pulls away, looking at you and smiling. Oh fuck, she _knows_ you're terrible at this, she _knows._

“AC wonders if purrhaps Karcat is nervous? It's absolutely fine if he wants to slow down or maybe take a break, she says, not offended in the slightest,” Nepeta smiles at you, entirely too accepting of your being a miserable failure when it comes to romance.

“Wh- I, no, fuck, I don't want to slow down. I-I just. Um,” You wave your hands vaguely, and you can feel yourself blushing all the way to the tips of your ears. Your voice drops to an embarrassed whisper, “I, uh. I'm kind of. Not sure how the fuck to proceed?”  
Nepeta fucking giggles at you. It does absolutely jack shit to help with your embarrassment, until she takes your hand and you realize _oh! She's not doing it to be an asshole!_  
“Well,” She begins, pecking you on the lips, “You aren't the only one who can move things forward, AC laughs, thinking that she could purrobably handle it on her own just fine.”  
You're about to stammer something about giving you some time and you could do it without her help when she puts her hands on your shoulders and gently pushes you back until you're laying down on the couch.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, _whoa!”_ You shriek at an alarmingly high pitch, putting your hands up. She's off you in an instant, asking if you're okay and if she did something wrong and you. You're just. Fuck, you're not sure what to do with this _at all_. You tell her as much.  
“Which is why I'm moving it along, you big silly,” Nepeta slides her coat off, leaving her in her t-shirt and pants. You're not sure why you didn't help her out of it earlier. Fuck, you're an absolute bulgechafing moron.

“I. Shit, okay,” you try to regain your composure, “Uh...go ahead. With the moving it along, I mean. I'm not going to flip my shit anymore, I don't think.”

She's smiling at you again as she leans forward, pressing you back down against the couch. Her lips brush against yours and when you lean forward to kiss her, she holds you down. You can't do anything unless she lets you. And fuck, that's kind of hot. Actually, that's really, _really_ hot. You're starting to make a mess of your pants already, not because you're kissing – which is nothing new – but she's holding you down, which _is._

You reach up to fist your hand in her hair, and she clicks her tongue against her teeth, pushing your hand back down and sitting up. You whine at the loss of contact, and then go bright red because fuck, that was an embarrassing noise.  
“So, you want to keep going?” She says, very pointedly eying your groin. You look hastily down to see what she's looking at; you knew your pants were damp but oh god that is a bright red stain _holy shit she can see it._

“I-I don't, we aren't, you can, fuck, what are you-” You stammer intelligently, and then she's leaning back down, and her lips are just barely brushing yours. You bite back a groan.

“Do you want to keep going,” she breathes against your lips; you feel the words more than hear them. Your pan is made of molasses, you don't quite register her words for a moment and it takes you even longer to gather yourself together enough to squeak out a response.

“ _Yes,”_ you whine out as soon as you can form words. Nepeta responds with fervor, sliding a knee between your legs and slipping a hand underneath your shirt. You fucking keen, high and loud, bucking your hips against her. Her cool hand finds your grubscars, sending little electric jolts of pleasure through you even as her knee lifts away.

You never take it this slowly with yourself; you only do it when you absolutely can't stand the frustration any longer and you always go at an agonizingly fast pace, almost punishing yourself. The way she's slowly working you up into a frenzy is new. And awesome. You're biting your lip almost hard enough to draw blood so you don't make any more of those noises, and she notices.

Nepeta kisses you gently, hands stilling on your body. She waits until your breathing steadies before speaking, doing that thing where she talks right into your mouth again. It's shockingly hot.  
“Karkitten, how am I supposed to know if you like it if you keep quiet?” She practically purrs the next bit, the words going straight to your nook, “Make some noise fur me.”

You do, you can't help it; her hand wanders down your torso and plays with the band of your pants before slipping underneath them and the boxers. She lets your bulge tangle with her fingers, tugging gently.

“Nepeta, that feels – _hnngfffuck! –_ really, ah, good,” you whine, arching your back. She raises a hand to rub at your horns. You don't think it's going to do much – how many nerves can fit in horns as small as yours, anyway? - but it's just the opposite. You almost white out for a minute when she fucking scratches the base of one, moaning like a pornstar under her hands.

“You like that?” She asks, scratching your horn again. Your mouth falls open in a soft _o,_ and you're trying to answer her, you really are, but it's difficult around all the chirps and whines you're making. You nod vigorously instead.

That seems to be enough for her, because she keeps gently scratching your horns as you fall apart beneath her. She is a fucking goddess at multitasking, you think blearily; one of her hands is on your horn, her mouth is on your neck, leaving marks high enough everyone will see (why is that idea making you so wet oh god) and her other hand is still tugging and rubbing at your bulge. Every time you reach up to maybe return the favor a little bit she swats gently at your hands. It leaves you lying there, struggling to catch your breath and hands gripping the couch cushions hard enough for your claws to leave holes.

The heat pooling in your gut builds to a fever pitch and you pull yourself together enough to feel embarrassed. You are still fully clothed and so is she, and here you are about to fucking cream your panties. Nepeta's probably getting frustrated with you, if the green stain on her jeans is anything to go by.

“God, Nepeta, I'm – I'm gonna,” you gasp, waving your hands frantically so she'll stop before you fly over the edge. She doesn't stop. The fucker just keeps going – is she laughing? You think she is, and then you don't think much at all except for _yes yes, oh god please don't stop, fuck me._ You hear someone making noises incredibly close to screaming and repeating Nepeta's name desperately. Oh, that's you.

Her hand twists just the right way on your bulge and you fucking lose it, soaking red through your boxers and pants. She strokes you through your orgasm, slowly easing you down from your high. You're panting hard, and you look at her when you're coherent enough to speak.  
“You- you didn't. You aren't,” you swallow, licking your lips, “You didn't finish.” She leans back, sitting on your thighs. You prop yourself up on your elbows, embarrassment really starting to sink in. There is red everywhere.  
“Hell, you didn't even get to start,” you mutter, looking at the ceiling. Anywhere but at her and the mess you made.  
“Well, we could keep going, if you want,” Nepeta says quietly, hands playing with the hem of your sweater. You choke.

“I – what?” You say, for once at a loss for words. (That seems to be the fucking theme tonight with you, though.) She shrugs, a little bashfully.  
“I kind of wanted to keep going, but if you don't want to, I don't mind-”  
“No,” you stammer out, taking one of her hands, “We can keep going. I want to. Fuck, you can keep going right now if you don't mind my bulge being a little out of commission.” She smiles at that, squealing happily and pecking you on the lips.

Then she goes to work, taking your shirt off and pushing you back on the couch yet again. You think she's going to make sure you don't touch her, but she does the opposite this time, lifting your hand and guiding it under her shirt, to her rumble spheres. She's fucking stacked. You go bright red, splaying your fingers and swallowing thickly. Your bulge might be out of commission, but your nook is doing just fine. It's doing fucking excellent.

She goes to get the zipper on her pants and you swat her hands away because fuck if you just sit there, but your hands are shaky and clumsy and she bats them away in turn. She doesn't take her pants off, no, just fucking whips her bulge out. You whine. It's monstrous for someone as small as she is, and you've never wanted something inside you so badly. Your nook fucking _aches_ with how empty you are.

You lift your hips pointedly. Nepeta blushes, lifting her weight off your thighs and helping you yank your pants and boxers down. You wrap your legs around her hips, rocking against her and whining. _Please just get this the fuck on already, hurry._

Your bulge is starting to poke out of its sheathe again; you didn't think you could get this aroused this soon after orgasm. She leans down to kiss you, one hand on your hip as she positions herself. You feel the tip of her bulge teasing the folds of your nook, and then it's inside of you.

You wail, throwing your head back against the couch and arching your hips up against her. She wants to go slow, you know this, but you can't bear dragging this out any longer. You rock your hips against her, fast and rough, whining when she doesn't move. You can feel her straining to hold her bulge still, and it is fucking killing you.

“Nepeta – hnn – fucking _move_ already,” you groan out, looking at her. You attempt to pin her with the finest death glare known to trollkind, but it's kind of difficult when you feel like you're molten inside. You think she gets the point, though. She starts lashing her bulge in you like she means it, hitting all the most sensitive spots inside you and making you see stars.

She slams her hips against you, pulling out and thrusting in again, and it's weird and strange and not at all how normal trolls do it but fuck if it doesn't feel _good._ You lock your ankles behind her back, pressing her deeper into you.

Nepeta's purring like a meowbeast, and you'd think it was adorable were she not currently fucking you until your pan leaked out your ears. You, on the other hand, are gasping and moaning with each thrust, careening dangerously close to the edge again. She leans down to kiss your horns, scraping her teeth against the inner curve of one and making you whimper.

“Oh _god_ ,” you wail, “do that again, please fuck me please don't stop” She does do it again, sucking on your horn a little bit. You gasp, wrapping your arms tightly around her to anchor yourself.

“Karcat – mm – you're pawfully loud,” Nepeta groans, though she doesn't seem upset by it, reaching down between you to stroke your now-unsheathed bulge. That does nothing to help you regain enough composure to quiet yourself. You wouldn't be surprised if you'd been talking this whole time.

Orgasm takes you by surprise this time, leaving you a shaking mess. Her bulge twists and curls in you, hitting just the right spot, and you're going, going, gone. You think you scream her name but you aren't sure, you couldn't care anyway. You're melting, falling apart into a shattered mess; she'll collect the pieces left of you and put you in a fucking museum for all to gawk at. The sign will say “ _Mutant troll boy, died of getting fucked on a couch by his matesprit.”_ Nepeta follows soon after, spilling her fair share of olive to go with the mess of red already covering the couch.

She pulls out before you can shove her off of you, gently kissing your over-sensitized skin. You only just now realize that she fucked you _wearing all of her clothes_ and that _you are fucking naked._ You flush, squeaking, your hands going down to cover your groin.

Nepeta shakes her head, chuckling. She lies down to cover you, peppering your face with kisses. You push at her face, flailing a little bit.

“Nepeta, we have to go clean off,” you insist, trying to get her to get off of you. She does not get, instead planting a big wet kiss on your cheek and shoving you until you end up on your side, with her spooning you. It's awkward and kind of messy, but it's nice. You wouldn't move for the world, you decide.

“We can clean off later,” she purrs, nuzzling your cheek. You think that's an excellent idea.


End file.
